


The second refusal.

by flakypie



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: 2nd person bc why not, F/M, another bad fanfiction, definetely innuendo if not smut bc it's lucifer, person enters tv world, reader is not a pushover, really really fast paced
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 12:11:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 10,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17182760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flakypie/pseuds/flakypie
Summary: Watching your favorite tv show, (Lucifer) you fall asleep. Waking up, you find yourself in a back alleyway. Right next to Lux. Knowing what you know, you go to Lucifer to try and get yourself back home, to discover that you have semi-supernatural powers. (probably because you don't belong there) Banding together with "the gang", you attempt to help catch a killer that Lucifer insists relates to you, fangirl over the cast, and wonder what brought you there in the first place.





	1. Spilled Popcorn

You hop onto the worn leather sofa and sink into the heap of blankets, pillows, and the occasional stuffed animal. Sipping your ridiculously fizzy coke, you settle down to watch the lates episode of Lucifer, only to find you're dozing off. You knock the popcorn bowl off of the side table as you relax into a comfortable oblivion. 

You rudely awaken to your head scratching against a brick. You open your eyes to find that you're in a dark alleyway, which is unusual considering you don't live in an industrial area. You officially begin to panic. Could someone have slipped drugs into your popcorn, kidnapped you? You walk into the harsh Los Angeles sun, and see something entirely unusual... the red Lux sign from Lucifer. You pinch yourself. Multiple times.If you're dreaming, it's pretty fucking lucid. Okay. Worst comes to worst, you're trapped in one of your favorite tv shows forever. Slightly worse than it sounds if you're never going to see your family again. On tthe other hand, sucks to be going into Lux with booty shorts and a crop top on, which shows WAY more skin than you'd ever dare to show in public. Better to be in a snazzy nightclub than to be wandering around a ark alleyway... Especially considering this is a crime solving show. 

You cross the street, glaring at the bouncer stationed at the door.  
"I'd like to see Lucifer."  
The bouncer laughs haughtily.  
"Come on in."  
You expected it to be fairly easy, considering you were fairly attractive and were probably mistaken for one of Lucifer's booty calls. The bouncer leads you through the jam-packed club, past large crowds dancing and drinking. You travel up the elevator you've seen so many times through the television screen and wonder if you're on television now. You attempt to be as modest as possible, which is not very modest considering what you're wearing. Your heart rapidly accelerates, as the realization dawns on you you're about to meet the devil, consultant, and nightclub owner. Not the actor. The actual Lucifer. the doors open, and the top floor of Lux is exactly, well, the top floor of Lux. You're about to let out a fangirl squeak when you realize to most people here this is probably normal, and regain your composure. A very male and very british voice speaks out from behind the piano, which is ringing out some song you don't recognize. 

"What is it now? i'm trying to practice."  
The bouncer calls out:" One of your girls is here."

Lucifer stands up and walks over to you.  
"We've never slept together."

"No."

"Well then what in the devil are you here for?"

His tone is angry, but his eyes rake over your revealing clothing. 

"A favor."

He shoos away the guard with a flick of his hand. 

"Well then, let's get down to buisness. What's your deepest, darkest, desire?"


	2. Whiskey and murder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You use your knowledge to confuse Lucifer, and he discovers you're not normal. He does attempt to strangle you. 
> 
> For all you first time fanfic readers: 
> 
> F/n:First Name  
> L/N: Last name

"To go home." you blurt out. 

"Well there's nothing stopping you!" 

"Well if you'd let me fucking explain befored using your devil tricks then maybe it would make more sense!"

"Well, someone has a potty mouth..."

"No wonder Decker finds you annoying!"

He looks shocked, and retreats to bekind the bar, where he motions for you to sit down. He pours you a glass of... something that you didn't ask for. 

"What do you know about me and Decker, Miss...."

"L/N."

"It's a long story."

"I've got time."

"Fine. Right now, we're in a tv show. For some reason, I got sucked in. I've watched said tv show, and I assume we're past the first standalone episode, 'Boo Normal', where Asrael visits you and Ella. I know you're the devil, that you sprouted angel wings, that you tried to cut off said angel wings, that you failed, you killed Cain, or Pierce if you want to call him that. He fell in love with Chloe first though..."

He drops the glass that he's holding. 

"Who sent you. My father? Is he STILL TRYING TO MANIPULATE ME! SENDING HIS LITTLE PUPPETS TO RUIN EVERYTHING?!"

He shoves you up against the wall, choking you, taking away your air. You violently shake your head, struggling to breathe, and push him away, sending him careening into the back wall. Due to pure exhaustion or lack of air, you black out.


	3. Crimes and bedframes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You wake up, Lucifer makes a move on you, Chloe calls, murder happens. Actual murder.

You wake up, yet again, in an unfamiliar place. You roll over and your ass presses against what appears to be a... oh god. You bolt up and look to your right. 

"Hello, Miss L/N."

"What the actual fuck."

"Well I just assumed..."

"Assumed you could move my passed out body into your bed and have the nerve to get in?!"

"Well when you put it like that..."

"Yeah."

"So we're really in a tv show?"

"I'm assuming we're between seasons, but yes."

"Do I end up with Decker?"

"Probably."

"Do you know anything about the next season?"

"Yes."

"Tell me, then!"

"No. That's my leverage."

"You know, L/N, if you want me to sleep with you, you can just ask."

"NO! My god, I just want to get home!"

"No reason to bring dad into this..."

"Yeah, yeah, it's a fucking phrase."

"So, he kicked you out of heaven. Gave you the love of your life. Humans don't like you. So what? How does that actually affect you? Who cares? I just want some clothing, and to be back in my home."

"Why are you so freakishly strong though? When I.... You..."

"I have no idea. Thanks for trying to strangle me, by the way."

He looks down at the pillow.   
"Sorry."

His phone rings, and he picks it up. He mumbles a few words into it. 

"Detective Decker has a case for us. There are clothes in that closet. You have five minutes to get dressed."

"Us?"

"Yes. After all, if my life is a tv show, you should be estatic."

"You fling open the closet doors and dig around the piles of evening gowns. Finally, you find some semi-casual clothing and slam closed the closet doors."

"Where do I change?"

"Here."

You roll your eyes and glare at him.

"There's a bathroom around the corner."

You quickly change into the clothing, which is slightly too big on you but good enough, that happens to contain a pair of stretchy jeans and a Billowy light green short sleeve shirt. 

"Are we taking the Corvette?"

"Obviously you're a dedicated fan."

"You're less of an asshole on tv."


	4. Fangirls and Crimescenes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY! You meet the cast, which means I get a LOT of work and you get a lot of dissapointment when I don't write as well as I should. However, THINGS happen. ThINGS you need to read about. GO! Right now! Yay!! Thank you so much btw for all the kudos/hits, 200 peeps reading my work... i'm genuinely freaked out right now. Ignore me. Go read some of my lovely trash!

The Corvette in all of its glory is exactly how it is in the tv show: glorious as all fuck. Lucifer apparently senses your awe and immediately plasters a smirk on his face, accompanied by a "Ladies first" in his somewhat arrogant tone of voice. You take this opportunity to ask him all the obvious questions nobody actually asks in the tv series:

"Hey, Lucifer?"

"Yes, Miss (Y/N)?"

"Why do you have a British accent? I mean, Amenadiel has an American one, and Azrael was talking about how you all grew up together..."

You notice him tighten his grip on the steering wheel and hesitate for a moment.

"I suppose that it's all the fault of dear old dad..."

"What, you didn't torture a ton of brits in Hell?"

He laughs for a minute and shakes his head. 

"You know, I think I like you, Miss (Y/N)."

"I tend to have that effect on people."

The car casually speeds through the city before halting at a crime scene surrounded in tape and police cars. Detective Decker stands next to a corpse as dan takes notes, Ella removing a sample from under the fingernails and putting it into a glass jar. You feel like vomiting, but Lucifer just gives you a hearty clap on the back and jumps out of the car to assume his normal annoying "Luciferness". You suck in a deep breath and slam the door behind you, ducking under the tape in awe at the bustle of the scene. The victim? The... corpse? is fairly young, female, with short chestnut hair and vacant blue eyes, an unlikely combination. there's a knife protruding from her thigh, which although gory doesn't seem like it killed her. Decker looks up at you, annoyed.

"Lucifer you can't just bring people into a crime scene. Not everyone has filled out the paperwork"

"I know she's not allowed, detective, but she could be useful."

She looks at you quizzically, giving you just enough time to blurt out one of your retorts you've never gotten to say to her face.

"Hey, Chloe, I can play the piano and I'm a fancy British man."

Chloe's cheeks turn bright scarlet and Dan drops the pen he was writing with. 

"So what do we have, Ella?" she mumbles.

"Well, it looks like our victim's cause of death was actually asphyxiation, even though she was stabbed beforehand. Due to the shattering of the leg bone, it looks like the knife was thrown, the victim fell over from the force, and was then strangled."

"So the killer threw the knife, missed, and strangled her instead?" you ask.

"Yeah. But the weird thing is, there are no prints on the victim's neck. Which means that the killer was wearing gloves. Which means...."

"The murder wasn't a crime of opportunity, it was planned." Chloe suggests.

"Or..." you say, looking across the street, "The killer was a butcher." 

"Safety regulations require butchers to wear gloves, right?"

"Well done, (Y/N)." Lucifer says.

Ella stares at the knife.

"This could potentially be a butcher's knife. I'll ask the lab to test it."

Lucifer grins at you. 

"Well, (Y/N), it looks like you've just given us our first lead.


	5. Suspects and Bacon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You get some information, and this chapter is boring because due to the formatting glitch I can't keep writing. Nothing really happens in this one, so you can skip it and work off inference. Also, my Chloe, Ella, and Dan are not exactly as they should be, because 1. I'm a bad writer and 2. I need the plot to go along smoothly. Also I made the reader a bit of a detectivey persona because that way she could uncover clues etc... so yeah.

Chloe leads the march into the nearby butcher's shop with Lucifer, who has ordered you to stay behind because

"We wouldn't want you getting killed by a knife-wielding maniac, now would we."  
You idly ask Ella about the crime scene as you wait for them to return.

"Could some of the blood on the victim be animal blood?"

"It's possible, but we'd have to test it, and that might take a while. I've already sent in a swab."  
She clicks the camera shutter cooly, pivoting to the right to get a shot of the murder weapon.

"So... Y/N is it? Why are you travelling around with Lucifer?"

"I had nothing better to do, I guess. Figure if anyone's going to be having fun, it's the devil."

"Right."  
She throws you a wary glance, the slight tone of sarcasm in your voice and the grin on your face assuring her that you're joking around.

"What was that stuff about 'fancy piano man' with Chloe?"

"Just me letting her relive one of her more drunken experiences she didn't think anyone knew about."

Lucifer and Detective Decker emerge from the butcher's shop, decker holding a flustered butcher in handcuffs and shoving him into a cop car. Lucifer cheerily remarks:

"Let's go expose a killer!"

 

You ride along behind the Detective awkwardly as music blares from the car's stereo. A few minutes later, you pull up to the precinct, a picture perfect image of how it is in the tv show. The same butcher is getting hauled out of the cop car, the hot sun beating down on his face, and causing rivulets of sweat to run down it. He looks to be about 45, and has a large bald spot that covers the majority of his head, thin, spindly hairs protruding from the pale scalp at odd angles. He wears an apron stained with grease and blood over a dark green polo and khaki pants, which brings a scowl from Lucifer.

 

"It seems on top of being a murderer, our killer has no fashion sense." This immediately brings on a look from Decker, and Lucifer senses it.

"What?" This brings out a groan of indignation from Decker, and you can't help but feel uncomfortable being in the middle of... this when really you should be at home, watching it from afar. You walk through the halls of the precinct, Dan giving out information about the suspect and handing Chloe a clipboard with some papers and photographs.

"Apparently the suspect's name is Mark Raleigh, and the victim's name is Millie Tatters. According to records and double checking the CCTV footage, she used to go there every Tuesday, order 1/2 a pound of roast beef and go, all at exactly 8:00 AM every week." You butt in:

"But why was this woman so into roast beef and... punctuality?" "Well, let's find out, shall we?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (skip this) Whooo!!! 295 hits! Thanks so much for reading my trashy fanfics and maintaining my self-esteem! COMMENT down below any critiques or suggestions. This is going to be really fast paced, but also pretty long, so hopefully over time some good fluff and 99% sure smut somewhere. I also am going to be going back in eventually and adding details so that it's less fast paced and flows better, but for all you peeps who are just interested in the storyline/romance, that part's probably gonna be first.


	6. Boners and Therapists

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suspect? interviewed. Lead? Followed. Shenanigans on Lux's top floor? Check.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 363 hits! I'm honoured! How many of those are people hitting the refresh button on accident lol. Thanks for all the kudos, also i'm sorry this chapter was a bit late, school got in the way.

Lucifer paces back and forth from the other side of the glass, as Decker sits opposite the butcher. She slowly slides the file over to the butcher, who is nervously fidgeting with his hands.

"Why don't you start with telling us what happened last night, Mark."

"I-I didn't kill no one."

"And the sooner you tell us what happened, the sooner we can find out who really did it."

"Last night Millie seemed pretty shaken up. I mean, she still got there at eight. This time, though, she ordered salami. I mean, I just thought maybe she was tired of roast beef. But I didn't do it! I don't got any motive! I liked Millie! thought she was okay! Came in at the same time and ordered the same thing, but as long as she's buying SOMETHING I don't give a crap what she buys. Hell, I even kept some saved for her, she was so regular."

"Okay, so did Millie have any enemies? Anyone she didn't like?"

"Not that'd want to kill 'er, or at least not that I knew. Hell, I'm her butcher! I wouldn't try to kill 'er, that's for sure."

"Thank you, Mark."

Lucifer sighed, quickly becoming bored without any new leads unfolding. He walked out, and after a brief hesitation, Chloe followed.  
Walking back towards the door, Ella suddenly materializes. 

"Exellent, Ms. Lopez. Any new leads? Or new suspects, for that matter?"

"Not exactly. I checked the blood on that knife and..." she raises her eyebrows at you slightly.

"Y/N" you respond.

"Y/N was right, it had traces of animal blood on it. No other DNA anywhere on the corpse, or the knife for that matter. However, I did search the corpse, and I found..." she holds up a clear plastic bag labelled "Evidence" containing a slightly blood covered phone.

"Wait, wait, don't tell me. Suspicious messages from an ex-lover?" You can't tell if he's being sarcastic or not. 

"Actually, close. Ex-boss, esteemed author and owner of a publishing company. Apparently, things between them were getting pretty heated. I printed out the messages."

"'I hate you, you dirty psycho bitch.' Well, someone was getting a little feisty, weren't they?"

"And that's not all. I traced the number and got a name, and apparently, her husband was cheating on her with her boss, and her boss wrote a book about it and sold it for millions."

Decker interjects.  
"So the victim gets mad at the boss and the boss finishes her off?"

"That's what you need to go and find out." someone else interjects this time, a sharp, irritable-looking man wearing a white collared shirt and black pants that look like they've been ironed tirelessly for days.

"Yes, sir." Chloe responds.

The building is tall. Not necessarily a skyscraper, but tall nonetheless. Chloe discreetly flashes her badge to the guards at the door, who begrudgingly lets us in. The doors open to reveal a lavish lobby, with people bustling around looking busy. Walking up to the front desk, Chloe asks for an unfamiliar name that must have been the boss's, Carrie Mitchells. The secretary leads us up an elevator, and on the top flor she takes us to a large office, where a thin woman idly sits grading papers. 

"We'd like to ask you some questions."

"Fine, but I'm only speaking to an officer."

"What about an officer and one very attractive consultant?" Lucifer replies.

"Fine, but she has to go." she says, looking at you and scowling.

Lucifer gives you a look you can't quite put your finger on.  
"Perhaps you should just wait at Lux, Miss. Y/N."

You feel oddly betrayed that you don't get to listen to the interview.  
"That's fine, but can you call me an uber?"

 

You wait. And wait. and wait. You look around Lux, all its hidden rooms and corners. Eventually, you find some money stashed underneath an ornamental vase, and a guest bedroom. You look around until you find a janitor's closet (the only janitor's closet, which is so poorly stocked you'd think it was just for hookups) and scrub the room head to toe, before peeling through the clothing you've found to assemble a small wardrobe. You can't find a washing machine anywhere, so you make do with a hair dryer and the bathroom sink. By late afternoon, you've assembled your room, stocked with clothing, food, water, and a huge en-suite bathroom with the biggest shower head you've ever seen. By the time Lucifer gets home, you're already half asleep under a plush blanket, sprawled out on a couch with the tv blaring.

You get shaken awake by Lucifer abruptly, who heaves something heavy on your feet. You stretch and get up, looking to see that on top of your feet are four or five massive bags.

"I went shopping, thought you might like to have something else to wear besides leftover clothes from my 'hookups', as the detective so eloquently put it."

"Thanks." his gaze is implying that he wants you to try them on, which you normally wouldn't, but in this case, you'd like to have some clothing that actually fits. Going into the bedroom and locking the door behind you, you open the bags and unpack their contents. He's gotten you a couple cocktail dresses, some shoes, a couple shirts, some pants, and... underwear. Lots of underwear. You wouldn't even be sure how to get in to some of this stuff. Slightly aggravated, you put the clothes away, grabbing some food to cook in the kitchen that surprisingly looked like nobody had drunk, done drugs, or had sex in it. 

 

"Where are you going with that?"

"The kitchen."

"We're going out to dinner, Y/N, I thought that was implied."

"Yes, and I totally got the message from the lining of a pair of UNDERWEAR you got me."

"You're welcome."

"For future reference, the only reason I'm going is that you're rich and i've never eaten gourmet before."

"Allow me to introduce you to my favorite restaurant."


	7. Crossbows and Lingerie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have dinner. More fun times with an overly flirtatious Lucifer, aggressively attempting to get you to sleep with him, and then SOMETHING happens. SOMETHING big.
> 
> BTW, 4th season of Lucifer is coming out. I'll bring to your attention that this is what happens BETWEEN SEASONS. It will all be explained... So basically when the new episodes come out happened after this. 
> 
> On another note, thanks SO much for all the hits! And kudos! Like seriously those numbers bring meaning to my life. Especially the one I haven't mentioned yet... COMMENTS!!! You should do it. Talk about your grandma's dog, give me plot ideas, any flings she/ possibly he should have with other cast members, rant about how much my writing sucks, LITERALLY EVERYTHING CAN GO IN THE COMMENTS SECTION.

It's staring at you. You have 2 options:

1\. Keep on the underwear that was already several days old  
2\. Put on the least confusing pair of underwear the lord of hell got for you, which happens to be red, ironically. Though from what you can tell in the tv series, hell isn't fiery.

There's a third option, but you're not going there since Lucifer didn't get you any tights and you're evidently supposed to be wearing a cocktail dress. You shower and dry your hair, locking the door and propping up a chair against it to protect yourself from unwanted visitors. You reluctantly go with option 2, and slip into a light blue dress covered in tuille and gold embroidering. It barely reaches your knees, but it's gorgeous, and apparently the second longest dress in there. It fits like a glove, which is alarming, considering you've only been in LA for a day, but you just shrug and unlock the door, stuffing some cash in between the dress and your bra "just in case". 

Lucifer is wearing pretty much the same thing he was earlier, but considering his entire wardrobe is pretty much suits you're not surprised.

"Well, Miss Y/N, you look ravishing tonight"

"Yeah, all I ate today was air. I think I lost like 8 pounds between that and dragging me through Los Angeles just to go back to an unfamiliar nightclub through an uber."

He looks mildly ashamed.

"May I make it up to you, then, Miss Y/N?"

"If you didn't I would use my freakish otherworldly strength to drive you into the ground, my good sir."

You drive toward the restaurant with the top down, some unknown radio station blaring as the wind sprawls your hair back behind you. 

You ponder the mysteries that consume you, wondering if time is still passing in your universe, or if you're on camera right now. If this isn't just some elaborate prank played on some mystery girl with the actors from Lucifer. You pull in to a thick strip of asphalt and exit the car, Lucifer tossing his keys to a man in uniform who nods and climbs into the driver's seat before driving off to store it. 

"You know it's fancy when they let strangers drive off with your car to an unknown location."

"Well then, shall we?" He offers you his arm, which you take with all the grace you can muster.

"We shall."

The doors swing open to reveal a plush red carpet embedded with what looks like tiny golden sparkles. Elegant and ornate tables and chairs are scattered around high vaulted ceilings, and strings of light criss-cross and twinkle daintily. Even the waiters look rich. 

"On the contrary, Miss Y/N. You know it's 'fancy' when you taste the food." Right on cue, one of the waiters elegantly ushers you to a booth, and offers you two slender menus. You read through silently, admiring the pure extravagance of the menu. You're pretty sure it's plated in gold. A waiter rushes to your table and pours 2 glasses of sparkling champagne, which you taste expectantly. You're not much of a refined wine taster, but as far as alcohol goes it's pretty good. You catch Lucifer looking at you strangely. 

"Wait. Don't tell me. This glass of champagne is 25,000 dollars and is imported from France." 

He chuckles, swirling the glass and stirring bubbles to the surface. 

"No. Well yes, but not what I was thinking." 

"Well, what were you thinking?" 

"I was thinking you could fill me in on any bits of me gossip you might know?" 

"Well, there is one thing I won't mind telling you... Especially since Decker is a little more asshole-ish in real life." 

"Oh really?" 

"Besides the point. Do you want to hear it or not?" 

He grins. "Absolutely." 

"Decker had a dirty dream about you having devil horns." 

His grin seems to get even wider and broader, his eyebrows raising in surprise. "Oh really?" 

"I wouldn't mind you having a dirty dream about me and my devil horns." 

You roll your eyes. 

"And Maize watched it while eating popcorn." 

His grin drops a little at the mention of Maize. 

"Sorry." 

He looks a little confused. "What?" 

"You know, Maize being evil and out to get you and all." 

He knocks the champagne flute off the table, and a waiter rushes to clean it up. 

"WHAT." 

"Forget it." 

His voice gets whisper-thin as he mutters: 

"I knew we had a fight... but.." 

"Anyway, let's have a good night, shall we?" 

He snaps his fingers and a waiter instantly materializes before you. 

"We'll have the steak platter." 

The waiter wanders off to the kitchen, and Lucifer takes two more champagne glasses off a passing tray and sets them down on the table. This spells disaster. 

"Lucifer, I can't hold my liquor. Maybe it's best if we..." 

"Nonsense, Miss Y/N. In fact..." 

He snaps his fingers and another waiter brings a whole bottle of champagne down as the steak platter emerges. You shrug your shoulders and say: 

"When in Rome..." 

-A few hours later- ( Adult content ahead! If you skip this, it will NOT affect the plot. ) 

You're dead drunk. You can feel it in every inch of your bones, dullness going through your body as it aches. Your head is pounding, your brain feels as if it's shrinking away from your skull. Knowing how much alcohol you've drunk, it probably is. How did you even get back to Lux? You look over at Lucifer, dancing in the middle of the crowded floor, showing no signs of drunkenness whatsoever. This is his element, you think to yourself. And god damn it, he looked hot as hell. You walked up to him, teetering on your feet. 

"Hey." 

"Miss Y/N! How are you getting on?" 

"Better and better," you reply, as your hand goes to his shoulder. "My my, Miss Y/N, you can't possibly be suggesting what you think you're suggesting." 

"Oh?" You press up against him and draw your lips to his, forcing him to bend down before wrapping your legs around his waist, making him teeter back. 

You slowly slam your way up the staircase, rarely stopping for air as you collapse onto his bed. 

"Well, someone's a little impatient, aren't they?" 

"You're god damn right I am." 

Your hands go to his belt, your pussy twitching in anticipation. His tongue explores every centimetre of your mouth, giving off the flavour of Bourbon, which somehow only makes you hornier. His hands inch up your dress, his lips parting from yours momentarily to lift the dress up over your head. His eyes rake over your body, only stopping for a moment to notice the undergarments you're wearing. 

"You're gorgeous." 

"Not too shabby yourself." you say as you remove his boxers. It's massive. It must be at least ten inches in length, but you don't have time to ogle because suddenly he's on top of you, slamming you down on the sheets and unhooking your bra, the bill falling out and floating to the floor. There's something lustful in his eyes, something that turns you on but scares ou just a little. Should you be doing this? "Wait..." you say, but your words turn to moans as he sucks on your hardened nipple, rubbing the tip of his dick gently along your dripping slit. "Tell me, Y/N, what do you desire the most,?" he whispers "You." He thrusts, making you convulse in both pleasure and pain. He only thrusts harder from there, his lips going back to yours, his hands squeezing your breasts as he dives even deeper inside of you. You're not sure if you want to scream or moan. He thrusts harder and harder, pressing more and more against you, past your breaking point, waves of pleasure coursing through your veins coupled with unbearable pain. You can't think, you can't move, you can't make him stop and you're not sure if you want to. It's better to ease into it, isn't it? You throw your arms around his neck and slam him down on top of you, his lips trailing from your cheek to your mouth. 

Finally, he collapses on top of you, filling you with semen, and you pass out, half hoping tonight's events were all some strange fantasy.


	8. Regret and Sirens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You get mad at Lucifer.
> 
> We've officially gotten to over 1000 hits! We're at 100 kudos, which means just over 1 out of 10 people click the kudos button. On another note, sorry for the long dry spell. You know, school and stuff. This chapter isn't done either... Hehehe. Also, it seems not to be registering my enter commands after I edit it.

You wake up to a pounding headache and a limited memory of what happened last night. You do remember one thing, though, and you're going to give hell for it. Lucifer is sitting at the bar, calmly sipping a cup of coffee. 

"Well hello, Miss..." you slam him up against the wall without even touching him, the words coming out of your mouth filled with bitterness.

"You."

He tries to speak, but all that comes out of his mouth is a raspy cough.

"You insolent son of a bitch!" you scream

"How could you do that!" somehow, your voice gets even louder. He's gasping now, struggling against your hold. Let him suffer. He deserves to suffer after what he did to you.

" I was drunk. Druk off my ass and you knew it." His gasps get more desperate, his face turning more purple with every passing second.

You put down your hand, which unbeknownst to you was outstretched and clenched into a fist.

"You did it for her..." you say, before you collapse to the ground, a sobbing mess. 

"Y/N..." you can hear the sympathy and hoarseness in his voice. You manage to bring yourself to a standing position.

"Honestly Lucifer, I don't care if I was just another one night stand, but if you have the urge to fuck me, do it sober." his jaw slackens as he looks away. You take the opportunity to slip into your room, the door slamming behind you.

________________________________

There is only one thing running through your mind... you have to get out of this goddamn nightclub. You throw on a shirt and a pair of jeans, grabbing a nearby purse and stuffing some cash into it, which seems to just be lying around everywhere, discarded. You glance into the bathroom, grabbing anything that might be of use to you, a toothbrush, a comb. He's standing at the bar when you leave, whiskey glass sliding back and forth between his hands as he stares at the bed with regret on his face. You flick your head to the side and the whiskey glass shatters against the wall, the elevator doors shutting in perfect succession.


	9. Chases and Angel Wings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You run through Los Angeles, whilst Lucifer chases after you. Pretty straightforward. Some fluffish stuff.
> 
> ALRIGHT COME ON, YOU KNOOOOOWW YOU WANNA!!!   
> Comment. Anything. It doesn't just have to be about how much you love my *fantastic* writing, but some feedback/suggestions/ hate. Like about me rambling on and on in the summary. Hey, that's why I put the actual summary first. Also, I wanna change the title, but I'm worried y'all won't be able to find it. So if somebody could, I don't know, shoot a comment?

It's cold. The bouncer looks at you quizzically as you walk out the door, (probably hasn't seen anyone look so depressed after leaving due to that bastard's "charm")

You walk down the icy Los Angeles streets, before coming to a subway station and buying a six-day pass. You make sure the money you've got is tucked in separate pockets, (and your bra) before closely examining a map of the city. You find the train that will take you to the other side of town, near the airport. You need to find out if they're still there. 

You exit the station and see a phone store right across the way. Good deal on the package, not like it's for a long time or anything. You get outside and try the number. Nothing, not even a voicemail. One more night in Los Angeles. The god damn airport wouldn't let you fly out the same night. One question keeps racing through your mind. What if they're not there? No friends, no family, no home... The money, although plentiful right now, would only keep you stable to look. You'd eventually need to find a job, stop looking and settle down. 

There's a secret, tiny part of your brain that asks you: Would it be so bad? Would it be so bad to live in a place where you can shatter glasses with your mind, where angels fly and heaven is a given? 

That tiny particle was smothered quickly. 

The hotel clerk silently passed you a room key and gestured to the elevator. You didn't feel like talking anyway.

The door clicks open to reveal a lavish suite. You're starving. You take a brief look at the menu and order the lobster something or other from the kitchens. You flop down on the bed, turn on the television, and find some generic detective show, (which happens to be brooklyn nine-nine) seeing as clearly there's no Lucifer here. You put on your old clothes, and after the lobster even ask for a bag of micorwave popcorn, which the hotel goes out of their way to get you. You laugh at the chemistry between Jake and Holt, the not-quite-romance between Jake and Amy. You start to fall asleep, by some miracle of grace, but when you wake up there's just a knock at the door of the same damn hotel room in the same damn city. 

You begrudgingly get up and swing open the door. He's looked bad before, on particular episodes, but it's worse up close.   
You slam the door shut, knowing it'll splinter and burst open a few seconds later. You shut yourself in the bathroom, hearing the door fall on the ground. You're on the eighth floor in a hotel with no fire escape. If you fall... you hear the pounding of fists on the door and weigh what you have to lose. It's not a lot. Edging yourself along the narrow ledge you hear the second door come crashing to the ground. You're scared, he's drunk. An unruly combination. If HE's drunk, imagine the amount of alcohol he'd have to consume. You wonder how many of those crystal whisky glasses he had to drink. Your foot slips on the ledge and you grapple with the balcony above you, just as Lucifer's head pokes out the window and yells your name... which inevitably leads to your falling. 

You feel the whoosh of air for a brief minute, and then a low yell that sends shivers down your spine. And you feel arms around your ribcage and you're floating to the ground, and there's no room for words because the second he touches the ground he kisses you. You don't know if it's guilt or desire or something else, but it's more than an empty hotel room in the wrong dimension where all you've ever known appears to not exist. 

"Y/N..."

"What about Decker?"

"The detective is my friend. I'm not sure if she's even that anymore."

"And I'm..."

And he pulls you in for a kiss again, and you don't dare to ask another question because the moment is fragile and close to cracking.


	10. Heartstrings and Bullet Wounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Lucifer scheme, question and wander around Lux and -cough- other things.  
> ___________________________
> 
> 1500!!! Whoooooo! Comment. I beg of you, 24 is not enough to fill the void in my soul. For some reason, I had a really hard time spelling omelette in this chapter. Make of that what you will. Also I know my smut is not detailed and there's not that much of it and my chapters are short and none of it is that good, but what matters is I tried. Right?

You wake up with a sense of satisfaction from the absence of a piercing headache. You think back to last night, crystal clear. You didn't do anything, he's too much of a gentleman for that. He'll wait until you make a move. You reluctantly remove the arm wrapped around your waist, swing your feet over the edge of the bed, and begin to make breakfast from the meagre food supplies in your room.After careful evaluation of the food in your room, you manage to make an omelette and plop it onto a plate just as he stirs from the bed, combing the night's dishevelment from his hair.  
He sits down on the bar stool, rubs the sleep from his eyes, and flashes you a grin. 

"so what have we cooked up today, Miss Y/N?"

"Just your basic omelette, which you are entitled to only half of." you cut the omelette with one stroke of the knife and push the plate over to Lucifer, handing him a fork. He stares at the omelette as if it just ate a kitten, and then proceeds to greedily shovel bite after bite in his mouth after cautiously tasting it.

"I can't do everything, but I can make one hell of an omelette."

"That you can, Miss Y/N, that you can." he manages to blurt out between bites.

You finish the omelette leisurely, and sit down on the couch to think.

"You don't on the off chance have a whiteboard, do you?" He perks up at that.

"Actually, Miss Y/N, I do." he goes off down some hallways and returns a moment later with a whiteboard, complete with Expo markers. 

You start scribbling anything and everything connected down, from the telekinesis to the disappearance of your family to the title of the episode you were watching. He watches you, scanning each little bubble and connection with more and more scepticism as time goes on. Eventually, he grabs the marker.

"I'll hire someone to look for them, Y/N. But until we can find out what caused this, I don't think you're going back."

You look up at him, and he kisses you, slowly and deliberately. He takes a step towards the couch, pushing you back onto it and nudging your legs open. You undo his buttons, and he undoes yours. You can feel him pressing against your thigh, and it scares you just a little. You take the plunge, and somehow it's completely different, like you're not just some byproduct of his desire. He's slower, more careful. You're in control of him this time, and you pull him in for another kiss, just to make sure.


	11. Sutures and Bedsheets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically another tiny moment in the midst of many. I feel like the story has turned into a series of one shots that advance what's left of a plot.
> 
>  
> 
> Alright, I KNOW YALL GOT SOME MORE!!!! Comment. Spam me until you can spam no more. Insult me, criticize me, rewrite my chapters

"Take them out, Lucifer."

"I would if I could, Miss Y/N."

"Well then you should have no problems taking them out."

He sighs, and as you stuff the dish towel in his mouth, he lets out a muffled scream and unfurls a pair of blood-encrusted wings, torn with bullet holes and tiny fragments of bone, not hollow like those of a chicken but the same structure of a human. You take a breath and pour alcohol on all the little spots of blood, and order him into the shower. He talks through his rag in protest, but you point, stomp our foot, and then proceed to scrub his wings with hot water and alcohol, after which they immediately begin to heal. Quickly, you take your pair of tweezers and remove all the tiny fragments of bone, ensuring they don't make his wings heal oddly. You step back and admire your work, a pair of pristine, white, wings, fully healed and radiating with a divine light that makes you want to worship him and fuck him at the same time. You promptly remove the gag.

"Well, do you like what you see?"

"If it means that you won't be squished to a penny next time Chloe is around and she tries to escape you by climbing around the lip of a building."

"About that... Surely you must be wondering why I haven't been working on the case."

"Because it bores you and you have a pair of decimated wings you need to be dealing with?"

"Because I'm scared, Y/N." he says it with such honesty that it scares you too.

"What if she hates me? What if she's managing to keep calm, but under the surface, she hates me? I'm the Devil in her eyes. I've done bad things, Y/N. To bad people, and I don't regret it. But Dad's will isn't exactly the same as human justice."

"Well obviously not." he looks up at you, confused.

"The world would be so boring then, wouldn't it?" he laughs, but something seems off.

"Lucifer?"

"Yes, Miss Y/N?"

"I want you back on the case tomorrow." he chuckles slowly.

"Well then yes, Ma'am!"


	12. Regret and Regress

Lucifer comes home twenty minutes after he sets out to the precinct and pours himself a drink. Which is usual, but then he gets another. And another. 

"What happened? Bored so easily?"

I stopped by the precinct this morning, as you're well aware."

"And..."

"Decker was gone. She took a 'vacation'."

"Lucifer..."

"I'm fine. I've got you." He goes to kiss you, but you shush him.

"No. We need to talk about this."

"I don't need another Linda trying to criticise me, I've got more than enough already."

"Well then I'll take you to her and she can do her job."

"Y/N..." he whines

"Toss me the keys. We're gonna go meet the rest of the cast. I mean, characters. People! I mean person."

"Well, someone's been hitting the scotch, hasn't she?"

"Just a little. What year's the single malt on the top shelf from?"

"1836."

"You've gotta be kidding me."

"No, Miss Y/N, I am not. I got that bottle from Edgar Allen Poe."

"Well then, don't stand there with your mouth agape, let's get this over with."

You knock at the door of Linda's office, and she opens it almost immediately.

"Lucifer!" she hesitates for a moment

"And who might this be?" 

"This is Y/N, my latest... interest." you elbow him, hard.

She purses her lips momentarily and remarks: "I thought you were trying things with Chloe."

"Well Chloe's on vacation, probably hate's me now she's seen my devil face."

She gasps and shakes her head. 

"I presume you're not here to let me help you process this?"

"On the contrary. Miss Y/N has practically forced me out the door to come see you."

She looks behind her.

"Lucifer... This isn't the best time."

"Well why not?" He moves past her and then freezes momentarily.

"Well well well, look who decided to show up out of the blue." Linda sighs and lets you in. You see Maize laying on the couch, boots propped up on the arm.

"Maize was just telling me how she..."

"Tried to betray me?"

"Well yes."

"Ah, don't be such a pussy, Lucifer" Maize says nonchalantly

"I'm not mad, Maize." suddenly, she notices you.

"You just keep going and going, don't you?" She looks at you and twirls a knife around in her palm.

"How long have you been banging her?"

"Three days, give or take." 

"Apparently, Miss Y/N comes from an alternate universe where we're some TV show"

"Cool." Maize says. 

Linda faints.


	13. Daydreams and Demons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You coax Linda out of her semi-delirious tate, and then you, the Devil, his therapist, and a demon go out and have an intense night of drinking, dancing, and dares (although there may be a few truths thrown in as well)
> 
> ______________________________________
> 
> Allllright!!! At one hundred and ninety-nine kudos. Which is fantastic and slightly agravating. I haven't posted in forever, but if ONE person could hit the kudos button and make that an even number, that would be greatly appreciated. Or you can un-kudos it, I guess. I'm not gonna be picky. Anyway, thanks for all the support. 
> 
> On another note, I know my writing is fast paced, but Iv'e been watching the new season, getting back into the groove, and I -think- I've got more of a hold on the characters and writing. Also, Dan is so much douchier now. Like WTF. I won't give any spoilers, but I WILL be stringing together the plotlines from seasons 3 and four which conveniently for me, have a time skip between them of days/weeks/months in which I can fuck around with. Holy shit this was a long description.

"And I thought you being the lord of hell was bad enough..." Linda remarks after you finally get her to come out of her faint.

"I mean, I'm not even sure what's real anymore..." you mumble. 

"Well obviously this world is the real one." Maize growls, slamming her knife against the table.

Linda frowns. "I mean, they could both be real, and just linked by a tv show."

"It's better not to make Y/N feel like she comes from a fake reality when we've just met her, Maize." she mumbles indiscreetly in Maize's direction.

"Lucifer?" she asks

"Yes?"

"You said that your mother went off to create another universe?" her voice sounds confident, and yet inquistive.

"Yes..."

"Could that be the one Y/N is from?"

"Well, Linda, I think you've gone into the wrong industry." Lucifer says with a smirk.

"There was also the episode in season 3 where God made a parallel universe to see what would have happened if he hadn't manipulated Chloe and Lucifer together." you say.

The room goes quiet. You can't help but feel like you should be watching this from your tv back home instead of being part of this conversation.

"Anyway, that's besides the point. We came here so Lucifer didn't sink into his normal spiral of booze, drugs, nonstop partying, and women."

Maize laughs. "You mean you came here to stop Lucifer being Lucifer."

"Let me rephrase that. We came here so Lucifer doesn't use nonstop partying to distract himself from his maniacal depression." Linda smiles a little bit. 

"I like her."

You and Maize are told to head back to Lux, where Linda and Lucifer would meet up with you later. Lucifer insisted that there was nothing he needed to hide, but Linda insisted on confidentiality. You step out of the office building into the parking lot, where Maize tilts her head towards a motorcycle. 

"Umm... How do I..." Maize swings her leg over the side of the motorcycle, then pats the small space behind her. Reluctantly, you wrap your arms around her waist and try not to fall off, before Maize revs up the engine and speeds down the road. You hold on for dear life.

Finally, after what feels like hours but is actually only a few minutes, you are situated comfortably on Lux's top floor, drink in hand. Maize looks bored and disinterested.

"So, why knives in particular?"

"Because they're awesome."

"Besides, I don't need to have a gun when I can do this." she throws the knife above her head, hitting the center of the dartboard behind her.

"Impressive."

Your not-quite conversation is interrupted by the ding of the elevator as Lucifer and Linda arrive at the penthouse. 

"Shall we? he offers you his arm, and you take it as you descend. You walk to the Corvette, and enjoy the breeze as it brushes your hair away from your face. 

 

You arrive at the bar, anticipating a concious night of gourmet food and drinking. The small group leaves the car, Lucifer giving a quick nod to the bouncer as he lets you cut the long line. A few people groan in protest, but no one else seems to take notice.

Once inside, you can immediately hear club music. It's like nothing you've ever seen before, incredibly modern and half-contrasting with the polished class of Lux. Coloured liquids are layered into clear crystal shot glasses, the music so loud people just point at things and the barista serves them. The tubes with the bright liquids are labeled with flavours, like blueberry and caramel, as well as a big spigot labeled "vodka". You walk down the bar, and after the flavourings you see other taps and a few bottles, with more standard drinks. However, the bar is dominated by the flavored vodka. 

Suddenly, Lucifer bends down and whispers in your ear. 

"I hear they have private rooms here as well." the very notion sends a shiver down your spine.

"All you have to do is ask, Miss Y/N."

You all order drinks, Maize and Lucifer opting for stronger drinks, you and Linda sampling the array of vodkas and syrups. You find a booth far enough away from the speakers that you can do something resembling talking, and eventually you get dragged out to the dance floor. You're not much of a dancer, but it seems like everyone is just bouncing along to the music or twerking, so you just bob around in a circle to the beat. 

After a while, you get some more drinks and regress to the table. Maize offers up truth or dare, and you're more than a little intoxicated so you couldn't care less what the aftermath could be. Maize asks first, which leads to a drunk-off-her-ass Linda making out with a stranger, a drunk-off-her-ass Linda making Lucifer strip on the bar top, and past a few more rounds of random and ludicrous daring Maize takes off with a random guy, Lucifer calls an Uber for a passed out Linda, and finally pulls you through a crowd of dancing people to a door.

-to be continued-


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Me attempting half smut-ish? You can skip this. It will be bad. It will be cringey. It probably won't be hot. It's gonna be fluffy as all fuck, but who don't love those lil' fluffy critters. Also, thank the fucking lord -not trying to bring dad into this- that my little dumb ass decided to click richtext instead of HTML. The formatting errors will soon be fixed. 
> 
> On a different note: we're past 2500 hits, and 200 kudos! And only 37 comments at this point... Let me tell you. I am guaranteed to respond. Which means roughly half of those comments are mine.  
> Shoutout to everyone who did comment:(may be a one time thing
> 
> Faerieofdreams, a positive person and an avid commenter. You can search her up if you wanna.
> 
> Aimee, great person, legit just said she liked it and brightened my day. You can say you hate it too. Just fill the void in my soul.
> 
> Ash, again, fantastic person, great comments. Be like Ash. Be amazing.
> 
> JasminValo2349. Fantastic New Girl profile pic. 
> 
> katrinadax. Again, just said she liked it. Amazing person.
> 
> Nelleandco, fabulous, using nugget, giving feedback, being awesome
> 
> Chaosarchangel, keeping me on my toes, asking questions.
> 
> ilikethat, YEA YOU DO!

Lucifer looked at you with a glint in his eye, as the door swung open to reveal a massive bed, an intricate oak frame with silk drapings, and a patterned silk bedspread. Over in the corner, there was a fully stocked minibar, as well as plush chairs done in the same silk. The lighting was soft, a miniature chandelier with dozens of tiny crystal flowers, glowing with a warm yellow light. It seemed the room had been soundproofed, because as the door closed you couldn't hear the pulsing music that seemed to emanate from every surface when you were dancing. In between the chairs was a small table, carved with flowers and vines. Resting on it was a silver tray of chocolate covered strawberries, pomegranate seeds in a small silver bowl, and a similar bowl filled with pistachios, all common aphrodisiacs. You would examine more, but Lucifer starts talking and he has a voice that demands your full attention.

 

"You know, most high-end clubs have rooms like this." Evidently, he senses your slight astonishment.

 

"Clearly. Where else would rich men pay to have hookups?" This catches him off guard, and he blushes a bit.

 

"I thought It'd be... romantic." It makes you smile a little bit, seeing as it's a bit of an unusual gesture for him.

 

"Well I never said it wasn't. After all, that's what you do best, isn't it? Tempt people." He grins.

 

"Am I tempting you now?"

 

"A little." you amble over to the tray of food and pick out six pomegranate seeds.

 

"Persephone ate these, once upon a time." you say. He chuckles.

 

"And then the lord of hell dragged her down to the underworld." he says. You smile, pop the seeds in your mouth and bite down on them, enjoying the sweet flavor that its juices emit. 

 

"I don't think she minded, considering the lord of hell was so attractive." You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him, slowly. He tastes like rum and brandy.

 

He slips his jacket off, and you undo a button on his shirt as he takes a step forward, pressing you against the wall. You can feel his erection against your thigh, and your body temperature gets a little bit warmer. Another button, another gasp for oxygen. He feels your outline, taking another 2 steps backwards onto the bed. Another button. Another gasp for air. He pulls your shirt off, throwing it to the far side of the room. You fumble with his belt, his pants falling to the floor as he slides yours off. 

 

"Would you take them out? Just once?" he looks down at you.

 

"Curious to see your handiwork, are you, Miss Y/N?" and with that, he unfurls them. You gently touch a feather, making him shiver. 

 

"They're beautiful." And they are. They seemed pretty in the show, but up close, they're glorious. Every feather is perfectly rounded, one thin bone covered with tiny white hairs, immaculately pushed into place and soft as anything in the world. He lays his head on your chest for a minute, and you wonder if you're even talking to the same person. He goes to put them back; and you feel the urge to stop him.

 

"Wait." he looks at you, confused.

 

"I wanna get fucked by an angel." he smirks, and rolls over, pressing you under him.

 

"Fallen angel, Y/N." he whispers.

 

"Is there a difference?" you whisper.

 

He kisses you again, and somehow by the next breath you've both lost your underwear. It's like everything around you is a halo of light, everything is pristine and you're in a feathery bubble where nothing bad can happen. With every feeling, there is a pulse. Him, doing something that words cannot describe and actions cannot dictate. Him, that feels so real but is, in the end, a character in a story. Him, that you're scared to love but already do. 

 


	15. Streetlights and Neckties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something happens, and of course lucifer is oblivious to it. 
> 
> Shoutout to lucifers_awesomeness for commenting and TAKING THE FUCKING HINT. 2 minutes. Seriously. 0.003% of people comment. Raise that up to at least 0.01 for me, k? kudos are lovely, but what I really need is your thoughts. Thanks to everyone who has read and kudosed and the 21 peeps who bookmarked my lonely lil faniction.
> 
> On a side note, gonna be starting an anti-fan fic. It's a new concept I cam up with. I'm gonna rewrite Twilight. To be less.... Twilight. Sorry to all them twi-hards out there but If the movie is better than the book the author is doing something wrong. And the movie wasn't that great either. Low bar, point being. Low enough for me to attempt it. (not that Lucifer is a low bar, on the contrary.)

You decide to leave with Lucifer after a while and head back to Lux, (even though he demands there's a perfectly good bed here) and he decides to get another drink before you leave, you still attempting to look like you hadn't just had your brains fucked out for the 5th time that night. You go into the spacious adjoining bathroom, splashing some cold water on your face because It's 3 am and all you want to do is curl up and go to sleep. Still, you've resolved to not spend the night at an unfamiliar nightclub, besides It's a short drive back to Lux and you'd prefer to change out of your clothes in the morning. 

Suddenly, you hear a squeak behind you. Frantically, you blink the water out of your eyes and turn behind you to see a strange figure approaching behind you with a rag in hand. You read an article once that chloroform can take 5 minutes or more to knock you out, and if the kidnapper presses the rag too tightly against your face it could kill you. Quickly, you attempt to grab the glass ornament from on the sink and hurl it at the figure, screaming with all your might before coming to the realization the room is soundproofed. Lucifer will be oblivious to anything happening in here. The mysterious silhouette just ducks, and you can hear the glass shattering against the wall. Immediately the figure rushes at you, pressing you against the wall and forcing your hands behind you. Then comes the rag, and the disgustingly sweet smell makes you dizzy. You try to take shallow breaths, concentrate on breaking the iron grasp the figure has your wrists locked in. You try to force your weight away from the shadowy silhouette, but to no avail. You resign that they're experienced and if they wanted to kill you, they could've done it already. They need you for something. And the sooner you find out what, the better.

As your mind slowly caves away to blackness, you try and leave signs that you were here, kicking over anything you can. You even try thrashing your head around to try and get the rag off to buy you some more time. But they are patient, calmly readjusting the rag. You're fuzzy, but still coherent. Then, an idea comes to you. You slow your breathing down and slump into your kidnapper's arms, and try and calm yourself down. Then, the attacker takes the rag off. Thank god. You're awake. You're aware as you can be. The attacker walks back towards the window, and lifts you up towards... another set of hands? They lift you through the window, and you can feel the cool night ait on your face. You open your eyes a tiny crack, just enough so you can make out some half-blurry shapes. Your feet are dragged along the ground, and you hear the idling of an engine. If there's any time to go, it's now. 

 

You break free of the strong hands supporting you, sprinting with all your might towards what you think is the direction of the front door. You can see streetlights, and you see a door, with ear-splittingly loud music echoing out of it. It's not the door you came in from, though. You see a barkeep smoking a cigarette at the door.

 

"You can't get in here unless you pay up."

 

" I'm with Lucifer. He's in there! People are after me! Just let me in!" You scramble towards the door, but he blocks you.

 

"Well Lucifer in't here, is he." You look in your bra, trying to find the cash, and then remember that it fell out during -other activities-.

 

"Please."

 

"Look honey. I've heard that whole shtick before. It's a night club, not the end of the world. Now get out of... Holy shit."

 

You look behind you, staring at the same silhouette who is now holding up a gun. You her a loud bang, and something wet covers your arm. You can't run. You can't look at what just happened. And this time, they just hit you with the butt of the gun and the blackness comes with the click of a lightswitch.


	16. Blindfolds and Satanists

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allright no spoilers! Knock yourselves out. My heart and soul right here. Lots a swearing, but what do you expect from getting kidnapped?
> 
> OOOOHHHH FLAKY WTF HAVE YOU BEEN DOING FOR 8 YEARS! I know It's what you're thinking. 1 word: school. So that means like ages between updates and like THE most random schedule ever. I present to you,the newest mediocre chapter in a barely passable fic. Like srsly why do y'all like this stuff? Anyway, we've passed 3000 hits! WOOOOO! I wanna thank everyone who commented as well, because that was what got me out of my frump of angst. Which will be present.

It's dark. Like, not just dark, but pitch black. You've started seeing little stars everywhere, tiny pinpricks of light against total blackness.

 

Your hands are bound to a wooden chair that appears to be nailed to the floor, and try though you might, the chair and ropes don't budge. It feels like hours before someone frees your chafed wrists and says to get out of the chair with a gruff voice. Finally, the blindfold is lifted, but you can barely make out the silhouette of your hand against the dark background of the rest of the room. You can make out a beefy outline of what you presume to be a man, a small table, the chair you never want to sit in again, a rickety cot, and a toilet in the far corner of the room, which is devoid of all light or windows. The figure sets down 3 objects on the table, swings a massive, creaky door open you couldn't even tell was there, and shuts it wit such ferocity that the sound echoes off the walls and momentarily deafens you. 

 

Upon inspecting the table items, you see it's a box of matches,( with only a single match in it), a tray of food, and a tall candle in a fancy candle that looks like one you'd see in a church. 

 

The match flicks to life, and you're blinded by the warm glow radiating from the match.  The candle shudders into warmth before the match burns your fingers, and finally you can see how dank and dismal your situation is. You aren't upset by how dirty the room is, but rather how surgically clean, as if they'd had to scrub the dull steel walls that stare back at you with blurry eyes. It's making you crazy. There are no windows anywhere, and while it's brighter than before, the room is still dim around the edges as  you consume the surprisingly tasty plate of roast chicken, green beans, and mashed potatoes with a glass of ice cold water.

 

You're going crazy, banging on the doors, the tray, even going as far as trying to set the sheets on fire, which ends up putting out your only light source. It feels like days before someone lets you out of the room into a dimly lit, but brighter than your personal hellhole. 

 

The corridor gets brighter and brighter as you walk along, passing door upon door. Your captor, you realise, is wearing a mask you might see on a beekeeper, wearing a black hoodie and a pair of dark blue jeans. This just keeps getting weirder and weirder, doesn't it? 

 

"Soooo... not that I'm complaining about being let out, but what the actual fuck is going on here?" 

 

Silence.

 

"So you won't mind if you show me the way out thennn..."

 

More silence.

 

"Alright am I GOING BATSHIT CRAZY OR ARE YOU GOING TO SAY SOMETHING BEFORE I RIP OFF THAT MASK AND RUN THE FUCK AWAY YOU CRAZY STALKER SON OF A BITCH!"

 

Angry silence. You decide it's futile to argue with this jackass and sprint down the seemingly endless corridor, attempting to open every door before you finally find a bright, sunny lounge, complete with windows, comfy furniture, and a tea set.

 

"What the actual Fu..." It looks like a normal living room, contrary to the mental asylum going on just behind a bright white door. Suddenly, an elegant woman comes through the door, sits on a regal armchair, and gestures for you to sit.

 

"Alright are people deaf or mute or both and why am I here and why the fuck and how the fuck and I don't even know what else to say because this is so fucking creepy and I haven't seen the light of day in like eight years and where the fuck was this place when I was going crazy in a pitch black room in the middle of fucking nowhere!"

 

"All questions will be answered in due time." she says in an agitatingly calm and smooth voice. "In the meantime, help yourself to tea."

 

"Ok, you know what after being knocked out by your cronies or whatever and getting dragged against my will to some obscure dungeon I really don't feel like calming down and having a cup of fucking tea." You feel like something's lacking. You finally decide on:

 

 

"You bitch."

 

"Well then. I can see why Lucifer likes you."

 

"Ok, I'm not even going to ask. For future reference, I usually only get this pissed off when strangers kidnap me. I should be screaming."

 

"Well I suppose if you're going to be stubborn then I'll tell you standing. But it's very long and very complicated so I strongly recommend you sit down. The tea is optional."

 

Reluctantly, you sit down on the gloriously comfortable sofa covered in a gorgeous lilac silk. Maybe you should've just sat down in the first place.

 

"Good. Now we can begin." she says, holding out a crisp white buisness card.

 

"We are the The Order of Satanic Worship and Ancient Ritualistic Practices. Or OSWARP for short."

 

"So, you're satanists. Great. How is that my problem?"

 

"I think you know how It's your problem."

 

"We believe you came from an alternate parallel dimension in which Lucifer's mother created a mirror world, and you somehow crossed the dimensional boundaries into this universe."

 

"WHAT."

 

"I understand this may be hard for you to process, but your universe has only existed for years, if that. We need information, and we'd like to conduct some tests."

 

"Alright. So let me get this straight. You drag me to a strange place, tell me I'm from another dimension that is fake, and then expect me to give you information and let you do experiments on me?"

 

"Well to put it bluntly you don't really have a choice."

 

"Actually, I do. I have lots of choices. And because I'm not an idiot, I can see that. I can comply and give you the info, and you don't torture me. I can not give you the info, and you don't torture me anyway because there's no way you'd risk killing the only information you have about the..."other dimension". You have no records on me, so you've got know idea how weak or strong I am. I could be fragile or an ex-CIA agent. There's no way of finding out I existed, let alone my strengths and weaknesses. You, on the other hand, have plenty. And I bet with a flick of my wrist I could pull whatever you have going here down like a house of cards unless you let me do  _exactly_   what I need to do to get out of here." Her expression has turned into a frown, you note with satisfaction. You cross your arms and grin smugly at her. If there's one thing you can do, It's BS your way out of something.

 

"I see you have no intention of complying with our quest for the truth." She says with that same annoying tone of voice. "That's... unfortunate."

 

"I have too many intentions at the moment to worry about something not worth my time and effort. If you would be so kind as to show me the door..." You get out of your seat, confident that you won't be kidnapped a second time.

 

"We've found a way to get you home."

 

The tea set shatters in a thunderclap of air collapsing in on itself and the pieces suspend in time for a second, just long enough for you to think "what the fuck is happening" before they all drop straight down and leave the once pristine living room a sopping, tea-stained, mess.


End file.
